


Slytherin Chronicles #4

by AngrySapphicHeda, beautifulmask



Series: The Clexa Slytherin Chronicles [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Also it's Christmas time, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, And they fight, F/F, Gryffindor Octavia, Lexa feels a bit sad, Raven's the best girl, The kids navigate their relationships and feelings, ravenclaw raven, slytherin clarke, slytherin lexa, they are all just kids so cut them some slack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngrySapphicHeda/pseuds/AngrySapphicHeda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulmask/pseuds/beautifulmask
Summary: It's Christmas time. Clarke can't stop joking around. Lexa can't stand Clarke. Raven is in detention a lot. Octavia wants to pick a fight with everything that moves.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: The Clexa Slytherin Chronicles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555576
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	Slytherin Chronicles #4

**Year 1**

For Lexa, Hogwarts is both everything and nothing as she imagined. The building is just as old and full of character as she pictured during the hours she spent reading the old copy of ‘Hogwarts: A History’, but being part of the Slytherin house wasn't exactly like she dreamt of. She should've known realistically, having classmates was new to her and despite her attempts she seemed to always be talking about something slightly different than the rest. Thank Merlin, she had Anya, who guided her through the confusing first weeks and became a role model when it came to navigating the minefield of everyday conversation without making anyone cry by accident. Soon enough, she was getting along with everyone, after all, they were all part of the same house. The people she didn't get on with at all were the ones who for some reason didn't seem to get that through their heads, like that one Clarke Griffin. 

Even as their first months went by and Christmas break got close enough to be slipping into most everyday conversations, Griffin still used every chance she had to hang out with anyone who wasn't in Slytherin, not to mention her lack of respect for rules that kept losing them points. Twenty two of them! Lexa counted! Lexa worked hard on her homework and participated in class to win those points and it was all for nothing because Griffin couldn't care about anything other than having fun. Lexa tried to point out to the girl that she should take class more seriously but it didn't go well as it only resulted in a mocking session from Griffin and Blake. So she settled for glaring daggers at Clarke who she noticed that instead of replanting Bouncing Bulb and taking notes about the color of the roots like she was supposed to, was pretending the plant was dancing on the table as some boy from Hufflepuff watched. They both burst out laughing much to Lexa's annoyance, disturbing the whole class. Herbology is one of Lexa's favorite classes. She enjoys nurturing the plants and their abilities fascinate her, if properly used. Not to mention, their herbology professor Gustus was an old friend of her parents and a second father to her, one who actually seemed to care for her. Therefore, something about Clarke choosing this class to misbehave in made Lexa blood boil. Luckily, before she could do something undignified, professor Gustus walked over the nuisances tableside. 

Clarke jerked as the voice of their herbology teacher rang from behind her, dropping the plant she was currently using to recreate the _Single Ladies_ dance.

“This is no way to handle a Bouncing bulb, Miss Griffin!”

Clarke grimaced, she didn't see him coming at all. 

“Sorry Sir.” She apologized quickly, doing her best to stop grinding about the joke that was still tugging on her lips despite her efforts. It wasn't doing the trick. 

“Three points from Slytherin.” Professor Gustus announces and turns to her partner in crime, Wells Jaha, “One point from Hufflepuff, for participating in the commotion Mr. Jaha.”

Both children nod, even if the corner of their lips still turn up with the laughter that had yet to cease from moments ago. Once the professor turns his back and moves away from them, Clarke and Wells all but spit their quiet laughter out, Clarke quietly mocking their professor and his punishment. 

From her spot across from them, Lexa is boiling. She had just earned them five points and now this insolent girl had taken more than half of that away and was already on her way to undo what she had won, with no respect or thought for their house and housemates efforts.

“Be quiet Griffin, do you want to make us lose more points than you already have?” Lexa tries to come out as stern but her nerves make it sound more like a whiny beg.

Clarke is still riding the high from making Wells laugh, meaning she has no problem finding a response to the pretentious girl’s accusations. “If it gets you all pissy like that, I might!” 

“It’s your house too, you should care about our points as well!” Her voice is shaking and Lexa knows it’s dumb to feel like crying over this stupid girl, but the whole class is now more or less listening to their whispered fight and judging by the smirks, she can see in the students from other house, she’s losing. 

“I didn’t wanna be in this house, I don’t care!” Clarke regrets it as soon as the words leave her mouth. 

She doesn’t dislike Slytherin at all. Most people are really nice to her and truth be told, she has yet to really encounter anyone that acts the way Octavia insists they would. Sure, they have the odd kid who, if Clarke hadn’t learnt that it’s against the law, she would swear is trying to curse her. But other than that, Clarke actually enjoys her house. 

Maybe Clarke just doesn’t like Lexa and her stuck up attitude about, well, everything.

“Yeah, your house sucks Woods!” A nosy Hufflepuff next to Lexa whispers, a sentiment some of his housemates seem to agree with judging by the muttered laughter that fills the room.

And then, the high is gone and Clarke sees the tears of anger in Lexa’s eyes and the way the others Slytherins are glaring at her and a wave of guilt washes over her.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that I-”

“That’s enough talking from you today miss Griffin, five points from Slytherin.” Professor Gustus approaches her once again, his voice shushing the first years’ laughter and comments that filled the room until now.

He turns away from Clarke and faces Lexa, whose face is red with anger.

“And I’m sure I heard your voice above the others as well miss Woods, another three points from Slytherin.” The professor's voice is stern and Lexa feels a weight on her stomach. Never in her life has Gustus punished her, not once.

“But-” Lexa tries to defend herself.

“Don’t make me take four instead.” The professor threatens.

“I was the one who started, Professor!” Clarke says, hoping that that will make the points go back to them. 

“How brave of you to admit it, miss Griffin, I’ll make it seven points then!” She doesn’t know why she thought that would work.

“Lexa was the one who started it, not Clarke!” Wells shouts. Clarke is thankful he tries to defend her, but she’s sure the boy just made it worse.

“One point from Hufflepuff, Mr Jaha, anyone else?” Professor Gustus' voice is now being raised and when you combine that with the man’s large stature, it's enough to quiet all of the small eleven year olds. Almost all.

“She’s the one who yelled!” Clarke pouts maybe a bit too loud, as the professor turns back to her.

“Ten points from Slytherin and a detection for you miss Griffin. Next person who talks out of turn is going along.” 

He waits a bit. Silence.

“Wonderful. Now, who knows how long it takes for a Bouncing Bulb to reach it’s productive phase?”

Normally, Lexa would answer the question right away. She should feel forced to, as they just lost quite a big amount of points and winning some back would do them some good. She can’t find it in herself to do so.

Her eyes are fixated on Clarke who has the audacity to still be whispering with the Wells boy. This insolent, stupid, brat of girl didn’t deserve to be a Slytherin. And Lexa actually thought she would end up proving herself worthy. And yet, the only thing she had done was mock their house and act too good for it. Lexa was done trying to make her act like a Slytherin should. 

Lexa wishes she was old enough to make an unbreakable vow. She knows Anya would help her. Because Lexa wants the heavens to know and hold her accountable when she says that she will never, not now, not in death, not even if she ends up becoming one of the ghosts that haunt the Hogwarts halls, stop hating Clarke Griffin.

**

Clarke didn't know what to expect from wizard detention. She had never been punished by her muggle teachers either, perks of going to a private school that needed her parents' funding, so she could only draw what she had seen in movies and heard in rumors. Murphy talked about how Hogwarts punishments were something terrible like having to go to collect spider eggs into the forbidden forest alone in the middle of the night. But that must've been just a joke to mess with her. 

She goes to Gustus right after her classes are over for the day with her head held high. So, she might've been a little worried, but she surely wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing it. 

“Miss Griffin, you're right on time.” Professor Gustus welcomes her at the door to his office but much to her confusion, instead of letting her in, he steps out, closing the door behind himself. “Come along now, we have much to do.” He motions for her to follow and begins walking through the corridors without bothering to check if she's actually behind him. Clarke struggles to keep up with the large man’s steps as her mind runs a mile a minute. 

Clarke figures he’s probably leading her to an empty classroom where she’ll be forced to sit in silence with the other kids and write something over and over again until her hand cramps. It was gonna be fine, he wouldn't just ditch her in the forbidden forest to collect enchanted mushrooms. This was a school after all, nothing actually bad could happen to her. 

As they reach the front gate and walk outside Clarke gets a bit less sure about her previous thought. It’s pitch dark already, with December making the nights come early, a sight that makes Clarke shake with worry. For a brief second she considers apologizing to professor Gustus for causing trouble in hopes that he wouldn't abandon her in the creepy forest, but ultimately decides against it. It's too late now and she doesn't trust her voice not to sound like a whiny crybaby. Gustus didn't strike her as the merciful type anyway. Then, to her relief, they turn to one of the smaller greenhouses. The small structure is glowing with warm light and Clarke feels a wave of adoration for it as soon as they step in. She won’t be made to die in the forbidden forest fighting spiders tonight!

“Hello professor G!” 

Clarke’s so busy being excited about not actually being led into certain death that she fails to notice that someone else was already inside the greenhouse. But, there she was, a girl about her age with dark hair and a rebellious smirk. 

“Raven, what did I tell you about shortening my name?” Professor Gustus huffs. The girl, Raven, rolls her eyes in a playful manner.

“Sorry, professor Gustus, Sir.” She adds cheekily. 

“You're lucky you're already in detention until Christmas.” Gustus says in a way that suggests he has already given up on teaching the girl anything. 

"Luck of the Irish!" Raven remarks. She doesn’t strike Clarke as irish. Or lucky for that matter.

Professor Gustus seems to be done entertaining the Raven girl and instead motions to Clarke, bringing the girl's curious eyes to her person. “You've got help today, please show miss Griffin how to clean the pots, I'll be back to release you before curfew as always.” 

“You got it Professor G.” Raven cheers, a snap and finger guns added for effect. Clarke has to purse her lips to avoid laughing at the girl.

The Professor sighs, his patience gone. “Don’t have too much fun girls, this is detention, not a playdate.” 

Clarke can sense the other girl is waiting for the door to close and the footsteps to fade away before talking, so she waits for the other girl to break the silence. 

“A Slytherin in detention! Well, color me surprised.” Raven says, making Clarke frown. What was that supposed to mean?

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you guys don’t have the best reputation, let’s be real here.” The girl's smirk doesn’t leave her face, making Clarke’s frown deepen. 

“Aren’t Ravenclaw’s supposed to be goody two shoes? Shouldn’t you be studying instead of being in detention?” Clarke quickly remarks, noticing the colors of the other girls' uniforms.

There's a brief silence in the greenhouse where Raven’s smirk disappears and she looks about to jump on Clarke. And in a snap, that look is gone and Raven burst out laughing.

“You’re alright Griffin!”

“Clarke! I’m Clarke.” 

“I like you Clarkey!” 

“Don’t call me Clarkey.” 

“I’ve already decided I’m going to.”

Clarke opens her mouth to complain but remembering the way even Professor Gustus gave up on correcting his name, she imagines she won’t have much luck either.

“So, what are you in for Clarkey?” Raven asks, moving from her spot and grabbing one of the dirt pots on top of the table “Grab a pot, and a sponge and start rubbing by the way”

They both move to the sinks, heavy pots in hand and get to work before continuing their talk.

“So?” Raven asks again.

“So?” Clarke repeats, confused.

“What did you do to get yourself in detention?” Raven reminds her, patience running short.

“Oh… Well.. I kinda bad mouthed this annoying girl in class… and bad mouthed Slytherin in general… And I was also messing around before that…” Clarke slowly admits, her body wiggling around with her discomfort of admitting what she had done wrong. She was used to messing around. She wasn’t so used to being held accountable for it.

“You bad mouthed Slytherin? You were just defending your house a few minutes ago!” 

“I know! I... I’m having a hard time feeling like I belong there, you know?” There’s something about this girl that tells Clarke she can trust her with what she’s been feeling since day one of getting sorted, trust her with what she definitely can’t trust Octavia with.

“Not really, no. I’m very certain I belong in Ravenclaw…” Raven laughs, almost mockingly before her expression changes to a more serious one, and suddenly Clarke feels like Raven is much older than her and so much wiser than she should be for only eleven years of age.

“From what I’ve heard Slytherin can be an intense house to be in. There’s a big sense of heirdom in being a Slytherin and I’m assuming by the way you didn’t try to throw the sponge at the pot to make it clean by itself, that you might not have any kind of magic heirdom, right?” Raven asks, montioning to Clarke’s circling movements on the outside of the dirty pot.

Clarke’s eyes widen.

“How did you know?!” Does she smell muggle like? That was one of her biggest fears still. Did wizards smell different? Some kids clothes smelled like her granny’s closet so maybe that was it.

Raven laughs, back to looking like a kid just her age again.

“I’m half blood. My mum’s a muggle. My dad was a wizard, he remembered to tell my mum that before he bugged off to Merlin knows where.” Raven says, not a hint of sadness in her voice. “Most kids with one or more magical parents go for the magical approach first.”

Clarke assumes that must suck, not having her dad there. Raven doesn’t seem bothered by it though.

“Now, I don’t know much about what weird dynamics you guys have over there in the gloomy house but have you ever thought that maybe the reason why you don’t belong is because you wish you didn’t?”

Raven rinses off the pot and moves to put it in its place, coming back with another dirty one, all the while ignoring Clarke’s shocked face.

Was this girl a mind reader? Was that a magic power some wizards had?

“What? I’m trying to help you, stop looking at me like I’m a gummy vampire.” 

“It’s just that… Well, I think the sorting hat made a mistake.” Clarke admits, moving to place the clean pot in the same table Raven rested hers.

“The sorting hat doesn’t make mistakes. Ever!” She hears Raven say after her as she grabs the next pot.

“But what if it did, just this once. What if I’m not really a Slytherin and he made a mistake?” Clarke sighs. 

“What are you, the chosen protagonist? I’m sorry to tell you Clarkey, but you’re not the exception to the rule. Just because someone told you you were too good for Slytherin, doesn’t make it true.”

Clarke is taken back by this. Shame washes over her for a bit. Does she really think she’s too good for Slytherin? The house that, so far, despite all her trying to keep her distance, has been really nothing but welcoming to her. Well, welcoming until she opened her mouth and ended up insulting every housemate in her year. 

The young Slytherin sadly comes to the conclusion that Raven is right.

“I should have known better than to listen to Octavia. But she seems to know so much about everything in this world! I don’t know anything! Until you told me, I didn’t even know sponges could clean things by themselves!”

Clarke feels her nose get stuffy and her eyes are burning with tears she refuses to shed. She misses her parents, her bed, her old life and she hates the feeling of not belonging here, in the place she always dreamt of belonging to. 

Raven seems to notice as Clarke turns away to try to wipe her nose on her sleeve.

“You don’t need to cry about it.” Raven’s tone has changed to a more concerned one, a tone that sounds so weird in the girl's voice that Clarke turns to her frowning. 

As soon as their eyes lock, the corner of the Ravenclaw's lips turn up but are quickly pursed in a bad attempt to contain a laugh.

Clarke tries to maintain her frown but her lips soon follow Raven’s into a smile and it’s not long before they are both laughing.

“Shut up, you twit!” Clarke half-heartedly whines, throwing her sponge at the other girl, who barely deflects the flying wet object.

Raven laughs at her and Clarke’s own laughter soon follows. 

They work in silence for a while. Clarke enjoys the girl’s company. Once in a while she’ll do a dumb trick like throw the sponge at one of the dirty pots, almost always failing to get it inside the target. 

When Clarke looks at the clock, she notices they only have about twenty minutes before curfew, meaning Professor Gustus should be coming back to release them soon. With only one pot left to be cleaned, Clarke feels like her punishment was well served. Almost tripping on her feet to get the last pot cleaned before time’s up, Clarke feels Raven staring at her as she wipes her hands on a towel. 

“Who’s the girl you bad mouthed?” 

In a mix of sleepiness and tiredness Clarke doesn’t understand the question.

“What?”

“You said you got detention for bad mouthing not only Slytherin but also an annoying girl… Who was she?” Raven’s eyes are shining with curiosity.

“Why do you care?” 

“Why does anyone care about anything, just tell me Clarkey!” Clarke has weirdly become accustomed to the nickname.

“She’s also a Slytherin, she thinks she knows everything and that everyone needs to be like her and that her way is the only right way and-” Clarke’s ranting is interrupted.

“LEXA WOODS?!” The girl yells, despite the time of night it was.

“Shh Raven!” Clarke shushes her, before continuing, “You know Lexa Woods?” Clarke supposes she shouldn’t be shocked, that girl seems to have the power to annoy anyone just by breathing the same air as them. 

“Of course I know her. Met her at the library, she thinks she’s smarter than me, can you believe that?!” Raven questions incredulously, throwing her hands in the air. “Me! As if!”

Clarke has only known Raven for a short amount of time, but the thought of anyone thinking they are smarter than this girl already feels like an insult. Of course Lexa would be the one to think such an impossible thought.

“She thinks she’s so great!”

“I know! Oh, look at me, I’m Lexa Woods and I’m such a smart pureblood. I’m from a famous line of wizards and witches! I’m so great and you’re not! Uh!” Raven mocks, voice high pitched, throwing her hair back in an exaggerated manner, making Clarke laugh loudly.

“You sound just like her!” Clarke manages to say, in between laughs.

Raven, clearly loving the laughs she’s getting out of the sleepy Slytherin, continues her show, straightening her back too much and holding her head high, her hair thrown behind her back dramatically once again.

“Make way muggles, magic royalty coming through!” 

Clarke is now laughing hysterically, her back against the wall and she holds her already hurting stomach. 

That’s how Professor Gustus finds them, both arched over themselves, out of breath with a few laughs in between.

“I specifically remember saying ‘don’t have too much fun’.” While his voice is stern, there is no reprimand behind it. “You’re free to go, girls, straight to your dormitory, it’s almost curfew time.”

Both young girls are still catching their breaths as they nod and walk to leave. The professor holds the door for them as they walk out, a few laughs still stuck to their ‘thank yous sir’ while they wait for the older man to lock down the greenhouse. The girls whisper on their way to the stairwell, walking just behind the professor, still sharing jokes and giggles. 

Clarke feels like she’s known Raven since she was a baby. Raven is a loudmouth like Octavia but while the Gryffindor girl runs her mouth about whatever is in her head, the Ravenclaw is certain of what she’s saying, like she’s lived a whole other life before this one and knows more than the whole castle combined. Clarke might even bump her slightly just to make sure she’s solid matter and not a ghost playing tricks on her.

Professor Gustus wishes them a goodnight just before they reach the Grand Staircase and warns them again to run along to their dormitories, probably imagining the trouble they would get into if they just decided to forget curfew and play around. 

Both girls promise they will go straight to bed, no messing around. And they intend to do just that. Until they are about to say their goodbyes and a whisper interrupts them.

“Clarke! Psst! Clarke!” 

At the sound of her name, Clarke looks around, Raven following her lead. Nothing. She’s about to shrug it off when she hears it again.

“Claaaaaaarke! Pppsssssssssssssssst!” This time, the whisper comes accompanied by the top of a head showing behind a wall. And by the way it moves from side to side impatiently, Clarke immediately knows who it is.

“O?” Clarke whispers back. 

“Who else would it be smartass?!” Octavia complains, finally coming into full view. She’s already in her pajamas and Clarke tries not to laugh at how obvious it is they are too big for her and probably belonged to her older brother at some point in time. 

“Why are you not in bed, curfew just started! We have an excuse, you don’t!” Clarke reminds her, swatting a piece of Octavia’s hair that has fallen in front of her eyes. 

“I wanted to ask you how detention was! Also, who’s this lass?” Octavia asks, trying to see the other girl through Clarke’s hand swatting her messy hair “Stop that Clarke!”

Clarke giggles and turns to Raven, who, in her turn, seems ready to leave.

“Her name is Raven. She’s a Ravenclaw. We had detention together.” Clarke introduces. “Raven, this is Octavia.” 

Octavia's eyes widened for a second. “A Ravenclaw in detention? Aren’t you guys like, really good kids?” she questions, and for the first time since becoming friends, Clarke can actually tell the bit of cockyness in Octavia’s voice.

“You think that being in Gryffindor gives you the right to judge what other houses should be? And here I thought that Slytherins were known for being the arrogant, judgemental ones…” Raven remarks, the mischievous smirk back on her face. “Is this the Octavia you talked about?” 

Clarke nods, not sure why it matters.

“I see… She needs work, just a push in the right direction to change her dumb views.” Raven turns her back “Well goodnight! It was fun, Clarkey!”

Clarke is about to answer back when a question too important to wait pops in her head.

“Wait, Raven!” As the girl stops and turns back, she continues “Why were you in detention?” 

The way Raven smirks makes Clarke feel weirdly excited.

“Boom!” she whisper-yells. 

“Boom?”

“Boom! Raven repeats happily and turns on her heel to leave. ‘Night!” she adds cheerfully over her shoulder before disappearing in the dark corridors, presumably off to wherever the Ravenclaw dorms were located.

All the while Clarke can't make sense of her explanation. Until it hits her. Second week of class. She could swear the whole castle shook when someone decided to try and make an explosive potion on the 3rd floor bathroom. 

Raven was a bloody legend. She opens her mouth to say as much to her friend but she gets beaten to the punch.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” Octavia asks angrily. 

“Oh! Do you remember the second week-” Clarke launches into explanation only to get interrupted again.

“Where does she get off calling me arrogant?” Finally Clarke notices how red Octavia's face has gotten and she realizes that the girl wasn't asking about Raven's story but was actually offended by her. Some part of her wants to point out that she started it but that part gets overruled by the fact that she's more exhausted than ever and just wants to curl up in bed. 

“... she seemed kinda deranged, I wonder if-” 

“Octavia,” Clarke cuts her off sharply, holding the girls red cheeks, squishing them a bit in the process “Go to bed, it’s late and you’ll get in trouble!” And even if still with her fists clenched, the Gryffindor nods and starts climbing the stairs. 

Clarke’s dead tired by the time she finally reaches her bed. Not minding her uniform, she kicks off her boots and climbs inside it. As she turns to her left side to turn off her light, she sees green eyes peeking at her from underneath the covers of the bed next to hers. Peeking might not be the right word, Clarke realizes, as the eyes squint in a threatening way only an eleven year old can muster. She makes a point of shutting the curtain around her bed before falling into exhausted sleep. 

**

Until the moment she walks into the Great Hall, Clarke is certain she all but dreamt Raven up. But there she was. Sitting at the Ravenclaw table, leg up on the bench next to her, mouthful of bacon as she reads something very attentively from a very old book. Before she can approach the loner girl, however, a certain Gryffindor appears in front of her, tie still out of place as she most likely overslept, as always.

“Morning Griffin! Hurry up and eat, I need you to help me with my potion homework before class starts!” Octavia announces, before running to the Gryffindor table and devouring whatever she can reach, under the disapproving sight of her older brother. 

Clarke moves to the Slytherin table, avoiding eye contact with any of her housemates. She really did mess up the day before and she needed to make up for it. Clarke needed to win all the points she could manage and she needed to do it sooner rather than later. That at least she could somewhat fix. Her relationship with the other Slytherins might be a different issue. 

She still has half of her toast to eat when she’s yanked out of her seat by Octavia. The girl starts going on and on about how Professor Titus was always so unfair about the homework and how he still taught as if they were in the last century. Clarke wasn’t listening much if she was honest. As they were almost out of the door Clarke stops Octavia and turns back around to the Great Hall.

“I want to go talk to Raven, you can go ahead, I’ll meet you after class!” Clarke states, clearly not having listened to the previous ramble.

“But, my homework! I need your help Clarke!” The Gryffindor girl whines.

“You should have done it yesterday instead of waiting for me! Besides, Professor Titus always finds out when I do your homework and doesn’t like me because of it!” 

After making her point, Clarke starts to walk over to Raven who still hasn’t left her place. She’s halfway there when the sound of running footsteps slow down next to her and Octavia’s complaining voice is next to her once again.

“I can’t believe you’re making us go talk to that girl!” Clarke can’t help but smile at the complaint when she hadn’t even asked Octavia to come along with her. When did they become attached to the hip? 

“Hi Raven!” Clarke greets, tapping the brunette’s shoulder. 

The girl turns around with a confused expression until she’s met with Clarke’s friendly face and wave. Behind her, Octavia crosses her arms and refuses to greet the Ravenclaw. 

“Clarkey! G’morning!” Raven turns to Octavia, a smile still on her cheery face “and g’morning to you Grumptavia!” 

“Eat a frog Raven!” Octavia remarks back at the sound of her newly assigned nickname “Let’s go Clarke! I don’t wanna talk to her!”

“But I do! You can go if you want!” Clarke urges, not in the mood for Octavia’s tantrums

Still, the other girl just groans out a ‘fine’ and sits down on the bench next to them, refusing to leave for reasons Clarke can’t nor want to understand.

“You’re the one who almost exploded the 3rd floor at the start of the school year aren’t you?!” Clarke can hear the excitement in her own voice. She just really needs confirmation she actually met the legend who did it.

“Indeed I am, but don’t go sharing that around!” Raven proudly admits, a cheeky smile on her face.

If any of the two girls notice Octavia trying to mask the surprise on her face, they don’t mention it.

“Wow… wicked!” Clarke murmurs, as Raven continues to smile.

“If I’m honest, it was actually not supposed to go off in the bathroom. I was hoping to actually test it in the Gryffindor’s Quidditch locker room.”

This statement takes Octavia out of her desisterested act, as she all but pushes Clarke out of the way to come face to face with what she could only assume was the opponent Merlin had decided to throw at her.

“You do not mess with Gryffindor’s Quidditch Team! Never!” 

“Octavia, calm down, she didn’t do anything!” Clarke tries to seperate Octavia and Raven, but while smaller, Octavia was definitely stronger than her.

“Yeah, calm down mate. I wanted to take the piss out of your Quidditch team but I gotta admit, I’m glad I didn’t. For all the misplaced confidence you guys have, your team kinda rules.” Raven admits, her back now curved as she tries to keep her face away from Octavia’s red one. 

“Oh…” Octavia backs up “Well, yeah, duh! We have the best players! My brother Bellamy just got into the team this year! And _I_ am going to be part of it next year as well!” She boasts “So, maybe it doesn’t have the best players yet because I’m not there yet! But it will! Next year!”

Clarke smiles wide at Octavia’s words. For all the annoyance Octavia brings, Clarke really likes seeing her friend being so passionate about something.

“Wicked! I wanted to try out for the Ravenclaw team as well, but I’m really uncoordinated with a broom. Professor Indra told me I should never be left unsupervised while a broom is nearby!” There’s this mischievousness behind Raven’s words that tell them she has been doing the exact opposite of keeping away from brooms.

“I keep telling Clarke she should try out ‘cause she’s really good on top of a broom but she keeps saying she doesn’t like competitive sports or whatever the bloody hell she called them!” Octavia says, pointing to Clarke “On the bright side, less competition from both of you suckers!” 

The three girls laugh for a bit at the statement before Raven, old book now closed and under her arm, ready to start walking to class, turns to Clarke.

“Is that really why you don’t want to try out for the Quidditch team, because you don’t like competition?” Raven asks, as the three girls exit the Great Hall and start walking to the stairs. She is once again, giving off that feeling to Clarke like she could tell her anything.

“Well, it’s not _only_ because of it. It… The problem is that… I don’t really know what Quidditch is about…” Clarke admits, feeling like an outcast once more in this magical world she doesn’t quite understand yet.

The two other girls stop dead on their tracks.

“What?!” Both of them ask, the disbelief, the incredulity, so very clear in every letter of the word. 

“What do you mean you don’t know what Quidditch is about! I talk about it all the time!” Octavia questions her eyes moving between Clarke and Raven, as if to understand that what she was hearing was real.

“You never really explained it! And you never give me time to talk and ask! You just talk, and talk and talk about it!” Clarke tries to defend herself.

“Raven, do you have any Quidditch cards?” Octavia asks, ignoring Clarke’s defense. 

“Of course I do, what am I, a squib?”

“What’s a squib?” Clarke questions the girls, who in return give her only another incredulous look, before going back to their plan. How was she supposed to learn what things were if none of them answered?!

“Meet me and Clarke next to the fountain after class! And bring your cards! I’ll go get my ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ book and my own cards!” Octavia turns to Clarke “You have a lot to learn missy!”

They both keep their promise. The rest of their week is spent with every free time on their schedule being filled with Quidditch facts and moves and players. Clarke still doesn’t want to try for the team next year. She loves flying but flying while trying to do something else, much less a sport of any kind, seems too risky for her. But she loves talking about it. Raven and Octavia gift her their duplicated cards so she can start her own collection, both of them looking like they are gifting her the most precious jewel they have - it’s not until later that she discovers both girls decided to part with one of the rare cards they each had so she could have them, and when she does, Clarke hugs them ten times as hard as she did when the two girls, now no longer trying to strangle each other, put the small deck of thirty cards in her hand. 

Clarke doesn’t see her from afar. She doesn't wish to be seen either way; the old broken bench hidden by the tree and the millenary Hogwarts architecture are one of Lexa’s favourite spots even in the cool winter days. But while the three girls, cloaks now drenched in snow from falling on the ground after Clarke’s aggressive hug, can’t see her, she can see them just fine. 

Lexa finds it unfair, in a way. Clarke has been nothing but a brat ever since she arrived at this school. Knows nothing about their world, jokes around when she shouldn’t, disturbing everyone else, and yet she makes friends with everyone, Slytherin or not, it no longer seems to make a difference with her. In the span of one weeks she had seen all of her fellow classmates forget about what Clarke had said about their dear house and go back to loving hanging out around her. She had seen her act like she had known these two girls from different houses since forever. And it annoys Lexa to no end. Lexa was polite. She was smart and knew her place. So why was annoying Clarke Griffin allowed to have an infinite number of friends and her only able to be friends with Anya, who had already been her friend before? As she mentioned this in a letter home, her parents had assured her she was not the problem, it was others who couldn’t see what an honor it would be for her to accept them as friends. Because her parents knew better. They always had. 

So, she trusts them. 

Which is why Lexa cannot wait to go back home for Christmas. But before she does, she must pack. Which it’s easier said than done when she shares a room with seven other eleven year old girls who can barely tell which skirt is theirs and which isn’t. 

“I’m positive that skirt is mine!” Lexa tells the girl who sleeps across from her, a tall girl who’s already going through puberty, unlike the rest of them. There’s no way Lexa’s small skirt, which the other girl holds in her hand, could fit her without looking too short for the school's standards. 

“Well, I’m missing one and I’m _bloody_ sure this one is mine!” She defends herself, the _bloody_ sounding out of place in the girl’s almost american accent. 

“It’s too small for you!” Lexa says, going for logic over emotional arguments. The phrase doesn’t seem to be received with the logic she hoped for, as the girl freezes and her face turns to shock.

“What do you mean by that? That I’m too fat to fit in it?” 

Lexa’s ready to explain to the girl that while not fat, she’s surely more developed than Lexa is in certain places. 

But, for once in her damned life, Clarke Griffin enters just at the right time to save her from an awkward conversation and maybe a few colorful words. 

“Karen! There you are, I was afraid you had already left to wait outside! Here,” Clarke announces cheerfully “I grabbed one of your skirts by mistake, I was about to put it on when I realized it was too long for me.” The girl says, offering a smile and the folded skirt back to the owner.

“Oh, thanks Clarke!” The Karen girl says, smiling and grabbing the fabric, resting it on top of her very messy suitcase. Turning to Lexa, her smile disappears “Here’s your skirt, Woods.” 

Unlike the one she received from Clarke, the skirt is thrown on Lexa’s bed, no attempt at folding it. Lexa looks at it and back at the taller girl. A nod is the politest thing she can offer. 

As she turns to her bed, Lexa can hear the other girls fuss about closing Karen’s bag, and, as soon as the zipper is closed, an exchange of Happy and Merry Christmases can be heard behind her, none of them directed at her. The young girl tries to focus on her suitcase and its contents instead of her lack of relationship with her fellow housemates.

“You’re going home for Christmas?” 

Clarke’s voice, clearly directed at her, shocks her so much she nearly drops the expensive bottle of perfume her mother bought for her just before she left for Hogwarts. Lexa turns around to face Clarke, who’s sitting on her bed, legs dangling while she throws her clothes inside her bright purple suitcase. Muggles have weird tastes.

“Yes.” It's the only answer Lexa cares to offer. Looking at her suitcase once again and then back at her side table, she frowns. “Where is that bloody thing?” She whispers to herself.

“Lost something?” Lexa hears Clarke ask, her words coated with so much innocent curiosity that Lexa feels immediately suspicious. Not that she’s going to enter a conversation with this girl to confirm it.

“No.” She affirms, looking around one last time before closing her suitcase and bringing it to the floor where her smaller bag already sits. She adjusts them both, making sure she can carry them up the dungeon stairs to the castle’s entrance without dropping them.

“Well, have a Happy Christmas then!” Clarke waves goodbye at her, as she turns to close the door.

Lexa feels so awkward with the cheery wish she almost forgets her hate towards the other Slytherin.

“Yeah, cheers!” And with that, the door is closed and Christmas break begins. 

**

Stepping onto platform 9 ¾ feels a whole lot different this time around for Clarke. Her baggage is lighter, the slimy toad inside its cage no longer the stranger it was at the start of the year, even if Clarke has forgotten to name the poor little thing. Her parents aren’t hard to spot amongst the hats that adorn most of the other kids' parents' heads. They aren’t far from the door she exits from but the small balance she manages to gain from her sprint almost knocks her father down as she jumps into his arms to hug him. Her mother quickly steals her from her father’s arms, giving her an embarrassing amount of kisses, no respect for her reputation among her peers. 

Jake insists on carrying all of his daughter bags, the backpack that would be perfectly fine on the little girl’s back included. For the second time, Clarke marvels at how other muggles don’t seem to notice the number of people appearing from a brick wall. Not a single glance as her dad, holding his breath, suddenly emerges from between platforms 9 and 10 wall. After crossing from the magical world back to her muggle one at King’s Cross Station, Clarke takes a deep breath. The smell is horrible. But it smells like home. 

Her parents got a new car and while it doesn’t compare to the owls that fly around Hogwarts or to the brooms she loves to fly on, it’s new and shiny and so normal, with its integrated GPS, she can’t help but feel excited. Their old car always smelled like the coca-cola she spilled when she was younger and far less coordinated. Clarke asks her parents to drive around for a bit before going home. Mainly because she misses the busy modern streets of London after being stuck staring at old walls by candlelight for so long. After finishing school, Clarke swears to never have a single candle in her house. She has modern light! Candles are just unnecessary. 

Clarke doesn’t think about magic for the course of a week apart from her parents never ending questions about the school. When she tells them about her house and what it means, she omits every single bad trait the Slytherin house is known for. Her mother seems delighted, and Clarke guesses that from the muggle perspective, Slytherin seems like a house where proper people go to. Most of her classmates are proper, she guesses. But Clarke doesn’t have time to think about the uncertainty she feels with her assigned house, no. She’s too busy going from store to store buying last minute presents with her parents, while doing pretty eyes at her dad who ends up buying her something in almost any store they go, dodging his wife’s judging eyes by using the old ‘it's Chrtistmas’ excuse. On their last stop for shopping they find Harper, one of Clarke’s classmates from her muggle primary school. They excitedly jump around, happy to see each other. With so much going on back at Hogwarts, Clarke had almost forgotten her old friends. Harper asks her about how boarding school’s going and Clarke is about to scream at the top of her lungs about how cool Hogwarts is and how fun it is to learn magic. And then she stops herself. She’s not allowed to talk about it. She remembers hearing a brief explanation about why in History of Magic. She couldn’t recall the reason as she was half asleep by the time the twentieth minute of class had passed but she knew she wasn’t supposed to. So, instead, she goes for the boring explanation, describing the school that once ripped of it’s magical elements, becomes just another boring castle somewhere in Scotland. Harper quickly loses interest and makes Clarke promise to call her, Monty and Jasper once she goes back. Clarke thinks they wouldn’t be all that happy if an owl showed up at their houses with a message written in ink attached to its leg.

Her mom requests her assistance to decorate the tree while her dad, with an apron that’s just slightly too small for him, pretends to know how to bake in the kitchen. They laugh together when the cookies come out burned and when the Christmas movie they put on has a funny line in it. Clarke missed her home miserably. Octavia would probably call her a baby if she knew how much she had missed cuddling with her parents on the sofa. But she did. Because here she knew exactly what and where she’s supposed to be; she’s just an eleven year old, sitting in her dad’s lap with her mum cuddling up to them while eating burned cookies. No feelings of not knowing enough about whatever magical subject it is they’re talking about or not fitting in the house it’s supposed to fit her like a glove. In front of the fireplace with a cozy pajama on and her parents beside her Clarke has no doubt of where she belongs.

**

“Why can’t I go too?”

“Because you don’t belong in this kind of event, dear.” 

Lexa sighs, defeated, letting her mother’s arm go. Going back inside, Lexa watches through the foggy window as she joins her father in the darkness of outside, beautiful black sparkly dress disappearing as they both take the Portkey. 

She’s been home for a little under a week and has yet to spend more than a few minutes with her parents. When she arrived at the station and got out of the train Lexa had stayed put, waiting to see her mother’s beautiful chestnut hair and her father’s towering figure somewhere in the middle of the crowd. She watched as her peers jumped to their parents arms, heard the squeals of joy and glee coming from both the child and the adults and hoped her parents would receive her with such excitement. Afterall, it was the very first time Lexa had been away from home for such a long time. Ever, truly. Letters had been scarce during the term and Lexa liked to pretend it was because her parents couldn't even fathom the idea of her not being there right next to them and writing her to so far away would be too much for them to bear. So, of course, they would be delighted and overwhelmed when they saw her again, beaming with pride at seeing their little girl dressed in her slytherin uniform for the first time. 

That’s why when her name was called from far away and she realized the trembling voice belonged to her mother’s housekeeper who told her both her parents had been gone for a few weeks and would be back within a few days, her little heart felt just a tiny bit more heavy. 

They had just come back this morning, nearly sparing her more than a few glances and words before her father closed himself in his office and her mother barked orders around to fetch her fancy dresses. Lexa had hoped they would prepare the Christmas tree together since last year she had ended up doing it with the house staff as they were both too busy. But now, with Christmas being just two days away and with them gone until the morning of, Lexa doesn’t really feel like putting it up at all. 

In her sadness, Lexa turns to the library. It’s not as impressive as Hogwarts’ own library but it gives her the same feeling of home the rest of the cold, grey house doesn’t. The cozy feeling of the candle lights makes her a bit warmer inside, it reminds her of the Slytherin common room and the few long nights she has spent with Anya sitting on the sofa, reading a few chapters ahead than what the professors had assigned. 

She misses Hogwarts. And despite the lack of friends, the annoying kids and the loads of homework, at least there, she belongs. She belongs in Slytherin, she belongs amongst the old walls of the castle, the hidden rooms, the whispered voices, the piles of books and the professors who congratulate her on her accomplishments. And for all the bad Hogwarts has, it’s all still a million times better than her empty house.

**

Lexa feels better as soon as she boards the train, finally returning to where she belongs. She quickly makes her way through the aisle, checking each door for Anya. She’s excited to see a friendly face again. 

But of course that the second door she has the misfortune to open reminds her that even Hogwarts has its downsides, as she’s faced with none other than Clarke Griffin and her house mixed group of friends, collectively laughing about whatever dumb thing they find amusing right until they notice Lexa and their glee ends abruptly. 

Clarke jumps out of her seat, blinking dumbly at Lexa, seemingly at a loss for words. It stucks Lexa as odd. 

“Woods! Are you lost or...?” Octavia asks, waking Lexa from her own surprise. 

Instead of responding, Lexa quickly shoves the door closed and carries on down the corridor, cursing under her breath. Some part of her had hoped that Griffin would have chosen to remain home and not come back for the second term. 

As soon as the door closes behind Lexa, Clarke slumps back into her seat in relief. “I thought for sure she had somehow found out.” 

“There’s no way she knows! It was just a coincidence, don’t worry.” Raven assures her. 

“Is this really going to work?” Clarke questions, still having some remains of doubt.

“For sure.” Octavia grins, “Bell and I tested it! It's foolproof!” 

“I can’t wait to see the look on her face!” Raven says, giddily.

Clarke nods, smiling at the idea. Finally, Lexa Woods would be taken down a peg from that high horse of hers.

**

Lexa is the last person to reach the dorms. As she moves to put her things away, she notices the hairbrush she couldn't find before winter break sitting neatly on her pillow. She concludes that the house elf's must’ve found it. She puts it in her bath bag without another thought until the following morning when she takes it out to brush her hair. It happens quickly, it only takes a few passes of the brush through her hair to make the golden glow appear. Heat tingles the tips of Lexa’s fingers briefly. She jumps away from the bathroom mirror in shock, dropping her brush on the stone floor. Her hair, usually a perfectly boring shade of brown now shined in red and gold colors, reflecting in every single tile of the room. Lexa stands frozen, staring at her reflection. She looks like… like a deranged Gryffindor fan, applying to be their new mascot. Lexa tugged at her hair with horror, wishing this was just a bad dream she could wake up from. It wasn't coming off. It was the work of magic. 

Her eyes fall to the brush she dropped earlier.

The realization hits her with full force. The brush that she couldn't find anywhere as she packed for Christmas. _“Lost something?”_ Clarke’s sweet tone. 

She’s going to murder her. 

Lexa runs back to the dorm, turning heads as she goes, her hair still glowing with red and gold. She can hear Anya yelling after her as she sprints past her but she doesn’t stop, paying her no mind.

Lexa throws the door to their shared room with a loud bang, startling everyone. 

“Griffin!” she shouts. 

The target of her ire is still in the room, getting herself ready for the day. Clarke’s eyes widen almost comically when her eyes fall on Lexa. Then, she breaks into laughter. 

“Nice hair, Woods! But, where is your Slytherin spirit?” The girl asks in-between fits of laughter. 

She’s laughing so hard she can’t even say the, no doubt, pre-prepared joke properly. The other girls in the room join in. Lexa sees red.

“What have you done?” Lexa screams, approaching Clarke threateningly, as much as someone her size can. 

“What? I don't know what you're on about!” Clarke has the nerve to smirk. 

And that does it. Lexa loses her tightly held together control over her temper, shaking with anger as she lounges at Clarke with her hand outstretched to deliver a slap across the girl’s face. Strong hands wrap around her from behind as she moves forward, holding her back so she merely grazes her intendet target with the tip of her nails, leaving a small red mark in their wake.

“Lexa, no!” comes Anya’s voice, pulling her back. 

Griffin stares at her in shock, hand reaching for her scratched cheek. Lexa pants, still shaking.

“What's wrong with you, can’t you take a joke?” Clarke yells. As if she was the injured party and not the person actively making Lexa’s life hell. 

“What's wrong with me?” Lexa can hear her own voice rise “You are an immature, ignorant little child! You shouldn't even be here! You know nothing about this school, magic or Slytherin! You think you’re so great with all your friends but you’re so stupid you don’t even realize that the only reason they like you is because they feel smart compared to you!” 

Clarke’s smile freezes on her face. But it’s not enough, Lexa knows it isn’t. Her heart is pounding with rage, with hurt, with the need to hurt Clarke just as badly, make her feel some of that outraged pain she carried around since Christmas and that exploded when she wasn’t even safe within her beloved house’s space. 

“You don't even realize how pathetic you are, Griffin! You play your little jokes because you can't do any real work for your house, not only are you useless but you're a complete waste of a wand! It's people like you who give muggle borns a bad name.” She adds with less volume but with all the more venom to her words. 

Clarke’s lower lip trembles but she doesn’t face away from Lexa, forcing her voice not to break she yells out: “Fuck you! It's not my fault you have no sense of humor. At least people like me! Everyone hates you! I bet not even your own parents like you!”

The angry words catch Lexa off guard, shattering something inside her, something she didn't think could possibly hurt any more, now radiated with a fresh source of pain. 

“I hate you!” she yells, feeling the tears well up in her eyes but refusing to let herself cry. “I want you out of my way, Griffin! We might have to live with each other for the next six years but if you want to live to see graduation, you better not talk to me ever again!”

Griffin flashes her an angry smile. 

“Trust me, nothing would make me happier than to never have to speak to you again. Despite what you might think, I actually like Slytherin, I just hate that you are always around ruining it for all of us!” 

Around her, a few girls nod in agreement. Others lower their head, not wanting to be associated with the fight.

“Alright that's enough” Anya pushes Lexa towards the door and past the small crowd that formed.

Lexa still has anger running in her veins by the time Anya sits her on the sofa, trying to calm her down. She’s not listening. All Lexa can think about is the day she’ll never have to see Clarke Griffin’s face ever again.


End file.
